Mononucleosis
by Good old fashioned lover girl
Summary: Paul is sick of mononucleosis and infects John. Set around 1964. Lennon/McCartney SLASH.


_**AN: Disclaimer: This never happened. I don't own the Beatles or Brian Epstein; I just own the words I wrote.**_

* * *

_**P.O.V. John Lennon**_

I was at home with my lovely Paul, he was feeling sick, and that's why he was lying on bed, watching TV.

"Do you need something, love?" I asked as the good boyfriend I am.

"Just a cup of tea, please. Don't make contact with it, wear plastic gloves."

"Mmmm, sure Macca."

I went to the kitchen to serve him the tea. Why did he want me to wear gloves, anyway? I didn't even know we had plastic gloves here. My conclusion was that I have a crazy boyfriend (who has a boyfriend who's crazy in love with him)

I brought him the cup to the bed, "Here's your tea, Paulie."

"John! I told ya to wear gloves!" the bassist rejected the cup.

"Why?"

"I don't want you to get infected."

"How could I? You haven't even touched it."

"Fine. Place it on top of the nightstand and I'll grab it, but don't touch it again."

Paul grabbed the cup of tea and began to drink it without separating his eyes from the television. I wondered why was he ignoring me, and why the crappy documental that wasn't even in English was more interesting than me.

I sat on the bed by his side to stroke his hair, just the way he always asks me to do it. I thought he would giggle cutely like any time I caress his smooth hair, but he just said without detouring his look from that damn electronic box: "Get out of the bed."

"What the hell, Paul?"

"I'm sick and I just want to watch this movie about eagles!"

"It's boring, Macca! And you can't even understand what they say; it's in Italian or something."

"Spanish."

"You don't speak it! And the lad talking's so annoying."

"Then get out."

"I don't want to." I kissed his forehead.

"Don't kiss me! I don't want you to get sick… And you're not letting me watch."

"Fuck the eagles." I grabbed the remote and turned the bloody thing off.

"Hey!" McCartney complained.

"Why are you so grumpy today?" I asked before giving little kisses to his cheek.

"I already told ya. I'm sick and I don't want you to be."

"What's your disease?"

"Mononucleosis."

"And that is…?" I asked, clearly not knowing what he was talking about.

"Something very contagious, you can get the disease by having contact with someone's saliva."

"Mmm… and who infected you?"

"Ringo."

"So you and Ringo where sharing saliva? Hell, I know everyone says drummers fuck good, but seriously? And you don't feel guilty about it? How could y-"

He interrupted me, and I honestly didn't want to hear anything. Wasn't Richard supposed to be my friend?

"I didn't kiss him, silly boy."

"Then how did he infect you?"

"George had mono, he kissed Ringo and that's how he got it, then Ringo took out a glass of water but only drank the middle of it. I was thirsty, so when I saw the glass I immediately drank it, and Ringo's saliva was there because he had previously used the same glass. That's how I got it. Did you seriously think I would cheat?"

"I know you'll never do."

"Looks like you don't trust me."

"I do trust you, darling, you know it."

"I know…"

I leaned over to kiss his lips, but he placed his fingers in my mouth stopping it. What a stubborn boy.

"I don't want to infect you."

"I want you to infect me, baby."

"No, you don't."

"All the Beatles have mono except me, I feel excluded."

"Don't be stubborn. Being sick isn't good at all."

"Then we'll be sick together."

"You're so bloody stubborn!"

I smirked, leaning over to kiss him, but this time he didn't stop me; he even kissed back.

"You'll get very sick." he separated, as I grabbed him again to keep kissing.

"It'll be worth it." I affirmed, going down to kiss his neck.

"You'll regret it…"

"Never." I continued to kiss him eagerly.

He moaned, and then requested, "Stroke my hair."

"Now you want it?" I raised an eyebrow and chuckled a little.

"Please." he begged.

"Mmmm'kay Paulie."

"Let's just cuddle."

I held him in my arms caressing his hair. I could see he was exhausted and needed to sleep, so he placed his head in my chest, closed his eyes and soon fell asleep holding me tight, like if he didn't want to ever let me go. I could see in the peace of his sleep that he felt safe in my arms, and I swore to myself I would do anything to always make him feel that way. Eventually, I fell asleep too.

The next morning, I woke up with a terrible headache, and I think I had the fever.

"You're feeling sick, right?" Paul asked worried.

"Kind of,"

"Do you regret it now?"

"No way."

"I told ya it wasn't a good idea, John… I shouldn't have let you kiss me yesterday."

"I don't care, love, we'll spend the day resting in bed."

Paul smiled at me, and that second the phone rang. I answered it only because it was by my side of the bed on top of the nightstand.

"Hello?"

It was Brian Epstein, our manager, "Hello, John? I require you and Paul in the studio, because apparently George and Ringo are sick of mononucleosis."

"We're sick of mono too, Eppy."

"Did you all infect each other?"

"Yeah."

"Did you all fuck each other last night?"

"No! It's all George's fault, because he was sick and kissed Ringo infecting him, then Paul drank from the same glass as Rings and got it too."

"And because I know you, I can guess you kissed Paul last night and that's why you're infected."

"What can I tell you, Eppy? That bastard is just too fucking sexy." I hung up the phone and kissed my love's forehead. Being sick had never given me the amount of happiness it did today.


End file.
